


In Which Grantaire  Comes To Realize His Leader's True Nature

by Callmeakittenbabe



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Cute smols being smol, Fluff, Flustered Enjolras, M/M, Revolution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 18:15:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9778607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callmeakittenbabe/pseuds/Callmeakittenbabe
Summary: Lat night musings.E/R is cannon.Life is good and happy and fun





	

Enjolras was tucked into Grantaire's side, his warm breath ghosting over his skin in a feather light tickling sensation. His golden hair caught the candlelight, shining like polished gold. It framed his pale porcelain skin, his normally drawn features relaxed.

'Apollo,' Grantaire thought, a small smile flitting across his lips. "He is indeed as lovely as the god himself, though much more haggard."

He pressed a kiss to the blonde's temple as he let out a soft murmur, eyes fluttering open slowly. "Hush." He said softly. "Take your respite now while you can. Daylight holds many grueling tasks to toil through and words to speak over the roaring tumult of ou- your supporters."

"The people of France are as much in your support as they are in mine. They find revolution to be a necessity, as do I and..."

"At rest, at rest, Enjolras." The raven haired man interrupted, a hand resting gently on the small of his back, a soft insistent pressure. "I merely meant that they see you as the front-man in this revolution. If I dare say even a prince of sorts."

"A prince?" He scoffed. "I am as much a prince as Javert is a criminal of the law."

"You are a leader worthy of our revolution, I was not the man who called you a prince and nor will I ever."

"I lack the worth to become so?" He asked, a brow raised.

"No," Dark curls brushed Grantaire's shoulders as he sat, leaning against the headboard. "Because all kings, all princes, are torn by conflict in their courts and the idea of public image. Ruling alters them, sometimes to the point of unrecognizable cruelty. And if only for selfish reasons I would not have that for you."

"You let worry inhibit your thoughts, though in this case I do not believe that to be bad."

"If you permit may I ask you, pray explain?"

"You worry what will become of us after all of this. You fret that I will forfeit the memory of you and take my leave."

The word he had not spoken were illustrated out of Enjolras's lips.

"Well in truth..."

"Hush." The blonde had settled himself in between the others legs and leaned in to give him a soft kiss. "You speak of a future we may not live to see. Do not fret so."  
Grantaire let out a shaky sigh, his hands settling lightly on Enjolras's sides, feeling ribs that were all too prominent against his fingers.

"You have the countenance of a god." He breathed, his words met with a light chuckle. "Had you not taken the last of my drink, I would say that this is but a dream, too sweet and insubstantial to be a reality and that at dawn I will wake, feeling as if my head will split to pieces."

"You quote the master of words to find such that are adequate for yourself." The blonde murmured thumb brushing over the elder's lower lips. "And now, let lips do what hands do."

He leaned in with a smile to steal another soft kiss.

"Do you mock me, Apollo?" Grantaire asked, voice full of faked injury.

"And if I do have the honor of being the fool who mocks such a stately lord?" He teased.

"Then I suppose you will have to be punished eventually." The words slipped from his lips, a smirk lifting the sides of his mouth.

Enjolras blushed lightly. "Hush with your talk of vengeance. Day has not yet broken and you know you will not make true of that threat."

"Truth is in the eye of the beholder my dear, Apollo."

"I am not..."

"You further prove my point with the words you speak. You see yourself as mortal, but me? I see you a god."

"Must we bicker over insubstantial views this late into the night?"

"It was you who began to speak despite my urges to stay silent."

The blonde chuckled.

"I suppose I did."

Strong arms pulled him close and he inhaled the warm spicy smell that clung to 'Taire with a small sigh.

"I love you. '" Grantaire mumbled against his hair, breath warm on his scalp.

"I love you too 'Taire. " He whispered back.


End file.
